Sleepless Nights

James is a very good name, Bellatrix thought idly as she laid on her back and stared at the dark ceiling. It was quite late, but she was too excited to sleep. James Harry Potter. No. Maybe James Harold Potter. Or maybe just a plain H for the middle name that didn't represent anything.

Then again, it could always end up being a girl. They would name that one Lily of course, after his mother. The middle name could be Isabella or Belle. Bellatrix wasn't so sure about naming a child directly after herself though.

She sighed as she turned over onto her side and looked over at Harry's sleeping form. Unfortunately he had not gotten around to getting her pregnant yet, so going over names was a bit premature. "All in good time," she whispered, smiling happily.

Having nothing better to do, she rolled onto her stomach and waited to fall asleep. Three hundred and forty-seven sheep later, Bellatrix was still wide awake. She turned her head and looked at Harry again. "It's not fair!" she muttered to him. "You could sleep through an earthquake while I can't even get to sleep in the first place!"

No response. Had she expected one? Not really. Deciding that since Harry could sleep through anything, and that she wasn't going to go to sleep, Bellatrix fumbled for her wand on the bedside stand. "Lumos." She then placed the wand in a specially designed holder so that she could read without having to hold it.

A book about countering Dark spells was soon produced from a nearby bookshelf. That lasted for ten whole minutes before it was returned to its resting place. A book about pregnancy and child care was furtively brought out from under the bed.

Bellatrix propped herself up against the headboard and peacefully read until Harry suddenly let out a loud gasp and then drew his breath in sharply. She slammed the book shut and looked at him with wide eyes.

Upon discovery that he was still asleep, she let out a breath that she had not realized she was holding. She wanted to wait for a little while before shoving baby literature on him. It was true that he was quite young. He needed time to get used to the idea. If he discovered her reading it now, he would feel obligated to join her despite his discomfort. Then he would be more uncomfortable.

It was amazing that he was not totally against the idea. Any child of his would be in danger, especially if Voldemort wanted to attack him. However, she had considered this carefully before even proposing the idea to him. Dark lord's had broken themselves on the walls of Nair'icaix. Anything in the fortress would be safe.

Even if the child would not be safe, could they afford not to have a child? If anything happened to Harry, the House of Polairix would need to live on. Perhaps even if Harry did die, a son of his could have the power to take his place. This thought process did not continue on much longer because Bellatrix could not bear to dwell on the thought of her husband's potential death.

Would pregnancy impede her? Probably. At first it would only cause some general discomfort. Eventually she would have a hard time getting around. It would be worth it though. Her thoughts were pulled away when she heard Harry draw another deep breath.

Concern welled up inside her as he began to breathe deeper and more frequently. Was there something wrong? Bellatrix quickly put the book away and set to watching him sleep. After a few minutes of the hyperventilating, he began to toss and turn violently.

"Harry? Are you okay?" she said timidly. When he didn't respond she watched and then decided that waking him up was the best option, if not the easiest. Gingerly, she tried to grab him and keep him from tossing. It was to no avail. He didn't want to be touched or held down.

She let go of him and her eyes fell on her wand as an idea popped into her head. The wand was taken from the holder and used to douse Harry's face with cold water. It instantly woke him up and he groaned loudly.

"Are you okay?" Bellatrix asked.

"Just a nightmare." Harry said quietly.

From their past conversations, Bellatrix knew full well what this meant. "I suppose that Voldemort is happy. How many Muggles died?"

"None." Harry said. "He was planning something. It had to do with St. Mungos."

"That's not good. Can you remember anything else? A small detail? It could make all the difference you know." Bellatrix coached.

Harry sat silently as he raked his mind. Finally he answered, "No. I can't remember anything."

"Maybe tomorrow then." Bellatrix said without much optimism.

"Yeah." Harry said.

"Seven hundred and eighty-eight." Harry whispered. "Seven hundred and eighty-nine." He paused and looked over at Bellatrix's sleeping form. Why can't I sleep that soundly? Harry asked himself demandingly. It wasn't fair. "Seven hundred and ninety."

...

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